


(you’re) still golden

by czerni



Category: South Park
Genre: ...Kinda, Bad English, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Introspection, M/M, Pining, Romance, Vomiting, slightly reference dysfunctional family, they are older than in canon, unbeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 09:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15554790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/czerni/pseuds/czerni
Summary: Kenny is golden. Golden like the sun, like the summer breeze, like the best aspects of life itself.Kenny McCormick is golden and that's how Stan has come to love him.





	(you’re) still golden

**Author's Note:**

> Will there be a time when I'll stop crying over the "you're golden" stuff? Probable never.  
> Anyways, here we go.

**1.**

Kenny is the worn-eyed boy who has The Death like a second skin, forever entangled around his earthy fingers. He is the one with the smiles of broken and dirty lips, always hidden under hoods dyed of sunset's color; of drowned voice and words and a heart bigger than what he can carry. Kenny is the dying child who never dies at all, and Stan might well pass away a little bit each day, too, just to be able to run his hands through his summer-impregnated hair.

It's a nice thought, really. One that fills his stomach with painfuls butterflies that, previously, only fluttered because of the Testaburger girl; alike it fills his mind with cheap poetry verses that even the Goths would take for melodramatic. And it doesn't take long for the nausea and vomiting to come and then he know how fucked up he is.

And, damn it, it's not like it's something that goes unnoticed by others, unfortunately. And he has to face Cartman's stupid jokes about hippies and poor people, and Kyle's attempts to advise him and the fucked-up murmurs of the asians girls every time they see him go by. The only one who seems to stay out of the subject, ironically, is Kenny himself, and Stan, no matter how hard he tries, can't avoid perceiving some implicit rejection in his lack of reaction.

" _Cause, well, I know I usually sleep for fun with anyone who is willing and available; but that doesn't mean I want to do it with you, Marsh_ " or something like that. Probably he is exaggerating. He doesn't know, anymore.

He only knows that, even if in the end his feelings do turn out to be nothing more than one-sided, they do exist, they are still there. And, for once, he try to find some superficial comfort in that, instead of sinking himself immediately into his own miseries.

(And in Randy's beers, too).

**2.**

Kenny McCormick is golden.

That is something that he has known since childhood, although he can't remember the exact moment in which he realized that. Maybe he has always knew it, deep down, and it only took him some time to realize it; only being able to express it aloud once and never again touching the subject. He doesn't know why, exactly. Perhaps, he thinks suddenly, it was because of the embarrassment that caused him imagine himself having to explain to McCormick what he had referred to with such a comparison like that. Because, how could he do it when he couldn't even explain it to himself?

Kenny was and is, still, golden, simple as that.

He still has the same blue eyes, of a so much more clear and transparent tone than his; and the same messy hair of aforetime and the same dirty, freckled cheeks. The same pervert jokes and manias; the same concern for his close ones and desires to protect his little sister; and the same bravery— the one that Stan sees himself admiring and envying, in a certain way, for each occasions in which he lacked it (and then he thinks irremediably in a distant hospital room and in the same dying child waiting for a visit that didn't arrive in time).

Kenny is golden. Golden like the sun, like the summer breeze, like the best aspects of life itself. He has always been it and would be no matter how many times he died and his body ended up colored with the red tones of his own blood.

(Because, Stan knows too, nothing golden can stay, not forever).

Kenny McCormick is golden and that's how Stan has come to love him.

**3.**

It happens one afternoon after his training with the football team. Stan is leaving the school building when he spots Kenny standing against an old tree, his old and characteristic jacket hood covering part of his face. Curiosity eats him up and he wonders if it would be possible that he is waiting for him; there are not many reasons why Kenny would choose to stay outside of the institute on a friday afternoon, after all.

He gulps and approaches him, not knowing if it's what he is supposed to do or not, considering how things have been lately. Seeing him approach, Kenny lowers his hood and greets him with a nod and a tiny but sincere smile. Stan's cheeks burn.

"Hey," he says, stopping in front of the blonde, at a distance he thinks is prudent.

"Hey," he says simply, and then adds. "I wanted to talk with you."

"Oh," he murmurs, looking away to his feet, "can I know what you want to talk about?"

"I think you already know that" Kenny replies, taking a couple of steps toward him, with an air of mystery in his words.

Oh, sure he does. At least that's what he believes and part of himself wants to be wrong.

Stan looks back behind him, noticing how the rest of the team has piled up and are muttering to each other, directing badly disguised glances at them. He gulps again, and for the first time in a while he can't stop thinking about how good a sip of beer would feel right in this moment. To hell with abstinence anyway.

"Can we go to a more private place?" He asks, clenching his jaw.

Kenny seems to notice his discomfort, and he just nod without asking questions.

"So, we go to your house? I don't think mine's is a good option right now."

Stan agrees, preferring not to think about the implications of that response, and with a certain bitter taste taking over his palate.

**4.**

Stan throws his backpack to the floor as soon as they enter into his room, that is in the same state in which he left it that morning; with the bed half done and some dirty clothes scattered. He downplays it, however, and turns to face the blond.

"Well, about what did you want to...?"

His breath and words are suddenly cut off— and it couldn't be otherwise as he feels Kenny's warm lips collide with his. The surprise forces him to separate his lips in a gasp and Kenny takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in the middle of the kiss. His lips move slowly against his own, devouring them with something like need and Stan finally closes his eyes, assimilating finally that  _oh, this it's really happening and Kenny has kissed him_ , and he reciprocate with all the enthusiasm he has contained in those weeks. Kenny's mouth tastes like cigarettes and cheap coffee, and his hands caressing him over the shirt, without any shame, causing chills down his spine. It doesn't even cross his mind that his mother is downstairs and his annoying sister in the next room, he could not care less about that.

The lack of air forces Stan to separate, panting. Kenny, on the other hand, breathes normally, as if nothing had happened. He smiles at him with a lazy gesture and Stan stares at him, touching the tip of his lips with his fingers.

"What was ...?"

"…that?" Kenny interrupts him, completing his question. His smile widens slightly, taking on a flirtatious tone. "I think you know what it was, doesn't you, Stanny?" he add, repeating almost the same words as before, while hanging his arms to the other's neck.

Stan remains static, aware that if he tried to back away a bit, he would end up sitting on his bed.

"You ... you know it, right?" Stan whispers.

Kenny cocks his head. "If it's about your apparent crush on me, then, by now thats something that everyone already knows.

The dark haired one tightens his lips.

"Don't make fun of me, Kenny." he frees himself from his grip and pulls him away, straightening his wrinkled clothes. "You bastard" he adds, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Then he wait for Kenny to laugh and say an excuse that it was all for a bet with Cartman (or something like that), or to apologize for making such a cruel joke, or to try to change the subject and lighten the mood,  _or whatever_. However—

"I'm not making fun of you Stan" is what escapes from the other's lips. "You should already know that I don't play like that."

The Marsh gasps and, before he can talk again, Kenny goes ahead.

"Do you remember once when we were kids..." he starts, placing his hands on the neck of the Marsh's sweatshirt. "It was Halloween and somehow we ended up in an absurd problem  _as always_ " he laughs, which makes Stan smile involuntarily, nostalgic. "and when it was all over you told me ... You told me that I was golden."

Stan gulps, his shoulders tensing. He didn't even believe that Kenny remembered that.

"Golden, Stan," Kenny repeats, as if to give some emphasis. "That it's not something that is normally said, don't you think?" he takes a more serious expression, suddenly. Sincere, in some way. "Since it began to spread... you know that—  _that rumor_ , I couldn't stop remembering that. Would it bother you, Stanny, explain what did you meant?"

_Yes_ , he thinks,  _it would bother him_ ,  _because he has no idea how to do it_.

But he doesn't say it aloud, he just stays pensive for a few moments, trying to find the right words— and, in the process, be able to control the nerves that were already starting to make his stomach a mess. Kenny takes a few steps back, as if he was trying to give him room to think, but this time it is Stan himself who stops him, taking one of his wrists gently.

"I said it because you were Kenny. And you still are" he begins to say, not knowing exactly what it will end up being. "I know that we are not kids anymore and that, although this town continues to be ridiculously weird, we no longer get into trouble  _daily_ ; but you still are that. For me. And I can't explain it, okay, I don't even know what the fuck I'm trying to say exactly but—  _You're golden_  Kenny, like nobody else is or like no one else ever  _could_  be. And ... and that's what I like about you."

He gulps again when he stops talking, Kenny looks at him with an expression that is difficult to him to identify and— what a surprise, he almost seems embarrassed. And it would be a feat to make the shameless Kenny McCormick feel embarrassed.

"Satisfied with the answer?" Stan asks after a while.

"I think so" it's the answer he gets, while Kenny pretends to fix his bangs to have an excuse to hide his momentary flush. "Then" he adds, already recovered and with a sudden flirtatious expression "does that mean that you do like me? That you do find me fucking gorgeous and all of that?

Contrary to what he himself had supposed, Stan does nothing but laugh at his last words. Probably due to the choice of words from the other that, at this point in his life, he should not be surprise of. After calming down he smiles at Kenny, who returns his smile, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Yes, it's true." The words slide from his lips more easily than he would have thought they would. "I like you Kenny. And, so you know, I guess I do find you fucking gorgeous and  _all of that_ , too." His smile widens when Kenny laughs at his last statement.

"Oh, Stan, you do know how to be cheesy. But that's good" the blonde murmurs, his hands resting on the Marsh's cheeks, coming dangerously close to him again "because I like you too, Stanny," he whispers in a singsong voice, his warm breath crashing against Stan's lips.

Stan's throat knots, his heart beating so fast that it may well break out of his chest— and maybe that would be preferable to something else ending coming out of his body because of his own nerves.

"Are you talking seriously?"

"Yeah" Kenny doesn't seem to mind his doubts, he keeps smiling; warm, shining before his eyes as only he does. "And, now, do we kiss or what?"

The Marsh laughs slightly and leans forward, catching Kenny's lips in a kiss. The blond takes advantage to deepening it quickly and Stan is suddenly sitting on his bed with Kenny in his lap, his hands touching him under his sweatshirt while his own hands stroke the McCormick's hair, as he had wanted so much in the past and—

"Kenny, you really are still golden" he murmurs, almost without being aware of, between kisses and he can feels Kenny smile against his mouth.

Suddenly his stomach flips over and he forces himself to turn away from Kenny, who looks at him questioningly before he understands and manages to dodge the vomit with which Stan ends up staining his own pants. Kenny drops by his side on the bed, laughing so hard and uncontrollably that, Stan thinks suddenly, he might end up dying from an heart attack. That's not the case, fortunately. Or maybe not so much for the Marsh and his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Stop laughing!" He exclaims, grabbing his pillow to hit him with it, playfully.

However, even that doesn't calm Kenny down and, sooner than later, Stan ends up joining him, both lost in laughs without neither sense — just like everything in that town they live in— nor perception of time. They rejoice in each other's arms, in each other's lips, in the happiness of being together. And Stan feels flooded by the warmth of the other and-

He feels peace.


End file.
